Boy's Night In
by Myew
Summary: Weiss and Schwatz get together for an evening of fun and games (meaning, of course, strip-poker and spin the bottle). *NEW* Parts 3 and 4 are up, and everybody gets some action! (Pairings and warnings listed at the beginning of the fic)*FINISHED*
1. Default Chapter

This is one I wrote a while ago, but never posted. My first semi-humourous fic! Hope you enjoy it (or at least get a demented smile on yer face)O_o* 

And yeah - I don't own any of these characters, but the story is pure Momo. ^_^

Boy's Night In

Crawford, Schuldig and Nagi walked together down the dark street, silence hanging in the air between them. Through puddles of amber light they edged closer, with every hurried footstep, to their destination. Cradled in Schuldig's arm, beneath the fine fabric of his jacket, an expensive Champagne flowed back and forth in tinted glass making tiny tidal waves. A cool autumn breeze carried the scent of cheap, greasy food along the narrow streets, and sent up garbage in cyclones.

"They'd better appreciate this." Schuldig smiled, staring down at the bottle as though he was addressing it while taking his cigarettes from his pocket with his free hand. He stopped walking, momentarily, to search for a lighter in his silk jacket.

Crawford, looking straight ahead, remained deadpan. "It's not as though the money came from your pocket, now is it?" He lowered his thick lashes, for a brief moment, at thoughts that only he could guess. "...And, yes - they will appreciate it. Greatly. Now shut up and hurry up - we're late." 

Schuldig rolled his eyes as the cigarette between his lips broke suddenly and neatly in two. "Hey!" He glared at Nagi, who stood innocently a few short feet away.

"What? They're bad for you!" Nagi laughed, narrowly missing a solid shot in the arm. "I'm worried about your health!"

Schuldig snorted in disbelief, examining the broken tabacco between his fingers. He frowned, flicking it into the shadows on the grey concrete. He would have to smoke one later, then.

*

Yoji paced back and forth, running his hands through his sandy hair in impatience. His watch read, in bold numbers: 9:01. "See?? They're officially late!" He glared angrily at the door, as though it would offer up excuses for their tardy guests.

Across the room, seated comfortably in the deep cushions of the couch, Ken laughed. "Calm down, Yoji - you'll wear out the rug! They're only one minute late, and besides...you're making me nervous with all that pacing. Just sit down and ... I dunno, smoke yourself into a coma or something." Ken turned, before he could see the face Yoji made at him, his attention back to arranging the sparkling sivler platter before him.

Disgruntled, Yoji threw himself down on the couch opposite Ken, and examined his friend's work with a critical eye. "Geez, Kenken, it's not ikebana- it's a plate of cheese and grapes for chrissakes. No one's gonna notice if you arrange the food to look like a ... chicken, or whatever that is."

Ken frowned, not wanting to ruin the aesthetic perfection by looking at Yoji. "It's not a CHICKEN, it's a PHOENIX. And it happens to be symbolic." As he spoke, he carefully laid down the last piece of cheddar needed to complete the beak. He smiled in boyish triumph. "There!"

"Symbolic that you're an idiot sometimes, Ken."

"Yoji!" From the kitchen they heard Aya's voice, rising over the sounds of running water and crashing pots. "If you have nothing better to do, come help us in - AH!!" There was a loud, metallic bang, and the sound of water rushing over the tiled floor. "Dammit, Omi!!"

"Mou! I'm sorry, Aya - it was an accident!!!"

Reluctantly, Yoji hauled himself off the couch and prepared to help avert disaster in the kitchen. He had to spare Omi some of the agony that went hand-in-hand with cooking under Aya's scrutinous glare; at any rate, the redhead was probably beside himself with frustration by now. Yoji stopped in his tracks. On second thought... Reversing his course, he dumped himself back into the cushions and reached into his pocket with a slanted smirk.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ken flicked a spare grape at Yoji, hitting him between the brows and shocking the slender blonde. "Aya's rule - no more smoking in the house! It's going cost us at least six hours of his lecturing if he even sees you pull one cigarette out."

Yoji laughed, the tabacco already secured between his lips. "Oh yeah - I forgot last time." He narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips, trying to assume Aya's frigid mein. Ken loved this impression. He tried to stifle a laugh as Yoji began, in an artificially deep voice, "Kudou, what do you think this is?... Kudou, this is a house, not a bordello ... So help me, Kudou..." Without missing a beat, Aya called out from the kitchen, "So help me, Kudou, if you smoke one cigarette in there... "

Yoji looked rolled his eyes at Ken "See.? Shiné, Kudou, shiné." He sighed, slouching over in the chair and begrudgingly hauling himself up from the seductive comfort. Shooting an angry glance towards the kitchen, he spoke with an emphasis intentioned for those not in the room as he sauntered towards the door. "Fine - if that's how his kingship wants it, I'll go out front! In the cold!" He continued, turning the knob, "Alone!"

Ken watched as Yoji swung the door open, intentionally flicking his lighter into life and dragging on his cigarette while still inside the apartment. A weak, childish act of defiance. He also saw Yoji suddenly look up, and saw the expression on his face change instantly upon viewing whatever there was beyond the door. "Oh - it's about time!"

Ken heard light footsteps climbing the front stairs as a hand reached into the apartment, grabbed Yoji by the collar and tore him off his feet and out of the door. He heard a familiar voice, lightly seductive: "Cigarette. NOW." 

Yup. That must be them.

"Aya! Omi!" Ken called towards the kitchen, standing and giving one last look at his perfected platter, "they're here!"

Crawford and Nagi let themselves in though the open door, well-dressed and wearing unfeigned smiles. They carried with them the scent of a cool night and expensive, alluring cologne, which filled the room and overwheled the mysteriously-like-burning smell which wafted from the kitchen. Ken smiled too, though still shocked by the sight no matter how often it greeted him. Crawford. Nagi. Schuldig. In his apartment. How ... wonderful. He hurried over to take Crawford's coat, who lifted an amused eyebrow.

"Are you still so surprised when we come in here smiling and unarmed? You really do not adjust as quickly as the situation would demand, Ken."

Crawford walked into the room, casting his eye over the tastefullly-chosen luxury. "You cleaned? It looks so much more civil then last time."

Ken took Nagi's jacket as well, hanging them lightly on the ornate stand by the door. "Well, we are having guests, you know ... but, since you're here, I guess I'll have to call and tell them not to come."

Crawford turned with towards Ken with a bemused smile, just at the moment that Aya and Omi walked in from the kitchen. In a rare occurrence, Crawford, and the rest of the room, were struck silent by what they saw; Nagi and Ken each threw their hands to their mouths, stifling laughter. Aya and Omi were each coated with flour from head to toe, and looking particularly less-than-amused. Aya had a smudge of some unknown substance slashed across his face; tears still beaded the corners of Omi's eyes, and if he did not know better Ken could have sworn that they had been involved in a wrestling match with the kitchen appliances. Overall, the general state of their clothes told that supper would not be ready any time shortly. Aya greeted Crawford and Nagi, making an exercise in futility as he tried to undo his apron and look civilised, as Ken picked up the phone and pressed the memory botton marked 'Domino's'. Crawford walked over, scrutinizing his red-headed host.

"That look is good for you," he said, gesturing vaguely at the flour that dusted Aya's face.

Beside them, Omi quipped in, "Yeah ... white-face, like a little geisha. Oh, wait - you don't even have any flour on you! That's just your natural skin colour!" He giggled, ducking from Aya's murderous glare and bounding over to his friend across the room. "Hey Nagi!"

Nagi smiled in return, looking his friend up and down. "My, you've made a real mess of yourself," Nagi observed affectionately, "What an idiot."

Omi grinned, batting his long lashes. "I know - I need to go get cleaned up, but I'm such an awful mess..."

Not needing any special powers to guess at the meaning behind Omi's words, the two boys shared a look that made even the air in room uncomfortable. They bounded upstairs, tripping over themselves and giggling wildly, before anyone in the room could blink.

Aya, when he regained his composure, looked towards the stairwell where the sound of mirth floated gently down. "Those two, I swear ..."

Aya turned, a blushing thought making him suddenly aware of a prominent absence in the room. "Where's Schuldig?"

"Here, mein man, right here." Schuldig and Yoji sauntered the room like two giant cats, closing the door and sealing them all within the four close walls. The party was complete. Schuldig, reeking of smoke, glided over to Aya with his gift. "Here ya go, precious." He handed over the crysal champagne, sniffing at the unpleasant smell drifting like a lazy ghost from the kitchen. He guessed, "I think it'll go perfect with pizza."

Aya frowned, guiding his guests towards the comfort of the living room and away from the awkward formality of the entrance. Before sitting he made a vain effort at cleaning himself off, which he quickly abandonned. He would probably have to shower later, anyway. They each took a seat; Schuldig sinking into the armchair with Yoji sprawled at his feet, and Ken nestled in the frigid comfort between Crawford and Aya on the couch. The five of them sat in expectant silence, wondering who would be the first to address that unspoken thought that hung in each of their minds. Upstairs, they could hear Nagi and Omi banging around, punctuated by the sounds of muffled laughter.

Schuldig was the first to break the silence; leaning forward in his chair, he picked up a triangular wedge of cheese from Ken'S tray and popped it into his mouth. "Nice chicken."

"It's a phoenix!" Ken protested pathetically, watching his hard work picked apart by Schuldig's greedy hands. From beneath his heavy bangs Ken could see the cuff of a wide-collared white shirt get drawn back, exposing the German's slender wrists and collarbone as he leaned forward to grab another mouthful.

"Perhaps, while we await the haute-cuisine, we chould address the current issue at hand; it is Friday night, after all." Crawford pushed his glasses back up the rim of his nose as he spoke, watching the faces of those around him from behind the glare. Business was business, after all. No one would speak first, but the tremour of anticipation became palpable in the air like a current of electricity, scurrying along the ceiling. Each mind was racing, tracing slow fingers over a thousand delicious possibilities. But to name them ... Across the room, a subtle tightening in Schuldig's mouth told Crawford that he could sense it, too.

Yoji, not one for dancing around the obvious, stood up and walked into the other room. Even when he vanished behind the dividing wall all eyes were on him, waiting impatiently for him to re-emerge. They could hear him shuffling about; when he came back into the room, he walked slowly enough to feel each set of eyes examine him as he moved. In his hands he carried a large bag, black and made of cloth, that he placed on the table before them all.

"Gentlemen!" Yoji said it with a flourish as he ripped the cotton bag back, revealing its contents on the table. There were boxes, board games of different sorts, and playing cards, dice, and a few scattered poker chips. There were other items, too - and it was on these that the others rested their eyes on with gleaming curiosity: blindfolds, edible body paint, whipped cream, and a pair of old handcuffs, glistening silver. 

He smirked, sweeping his eyes around the table at all those that were fixed on him. "So," he said, "What shall we play?" 


	2. let the games begin

Hey there! Thanks to all you cool dolls who reviewed the first part - you know who you are - I live by your kindness! There's a bit (a VERY bit) of an explanation here as to what's going on ... other than that, just sit back with yer tea and enjoy! This won't go beyond 3 parts - it's amazing that I'm even dragging it along this far!

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Laughter rang off the walls of the apartment, carried out through the window and into the cold, open air. Huddled around a low table, held together by a ring of light that swayed gently side-to-side, were Weiss and Schwartz; howling with laughter and pounding strong fists against the wooden tabletop. Empty alcohol bottles rang hollowly as they rolled along the planks of the floor and settled against the rugs. 

It had been a while since it had all ended - since the members of the opposing teams had served their terms of penance and were set free to lead their own, individual lives. They had all longed for freedom and yet...still they remained together, drawn to each other as teammates in a greater battle. Gradually, the members of what had once been Weiss and Schwartz came in each other's company more and more frequently. Facing the prospect of death at each other's hands had created an insoluable bond between them; at times exemplified in a sort of playful competitiveness, at others in acts of genuine kindness. Lately, however, there had been another demension to the dynamic that drew them to each other. It was as if they had all looked back, taken stock of the demons of their pasts and asked, "why shouldn't man be happy?" They had earned, with blood and sweat, their moments together of giddy and light abandon.

So far, in the course of the evening, they had given themselves over to various forms of entertainment. They had tried to play a game of twister, which had ended almost immediately after Aya had been forced assume a position that would have made the Kama Sutra blush. The cat calls from Yoji and Schuldig had really been too much. As the empty bottles of alcohol slowly stacked up, blackjack had also been attempted - but Omi and Nagi's pathetic attempts at poker faces and Schuldig's unequal advantage had caused more than one quarrell. And now ...

And now Schuldig shifted, uncomfortably warm and absurdly lumpy beneath three light shirts. Around his neck pants were tied together in a make-shift scarf, and knotted socks encircled his head and neck. At his side Crawford was characteristically grim, his strong grip tightened around a bundle of clothing and something about his face remotely conspiratorial.

At the moment, the game was strip poker - and Weiss were losing quite determinedly.

They sat, pressed together on the opposing side of the table, in various stages of undress. Yoji was apparently the worst at the game - though he had been wearing the most layers he was now almost naked, save the burgandy-and-gold-polka-dotted boxers that barely covered his natural gifts. Ken, sloping drunkenly against Aya and giggling, was also shirtless and pantless, although the only member of the assembly still in possession of his socks. He was also, noticeably, the worst at handling his alcohol. Aya was better off than the others : still wearing his pants, and directing an inhuman amount of fury against the uncooperative hand of cards he'd been delt. His legs were tucked beneath him, naked toes curled primly and an anklet visible beneath the hem of his pant. He was slightly tipsy - they had, as per usual, gotten heavily into the liquor - but no river of alcohol could dissuade Aya from being ashamed to be shirtless. He could feel Schuldig's eyes groping him from across the table, while Crawford poured him another stiff drink.

"Alright, kitten - time to show your cards." Shuldig cracked a slanted grin, fanning his cards out on the table. Royal Straight Flush. Damn, he was good at this. As the others followed suit, Aya clutched his protectively closer to his chest. There was no way ... no way...

Beside him, Ken leaned over and whispered, quite loudly enough for the entire table to hear, "What's a madder, Aya? Don't want to show your pair twos?" As he spoke he ran his fingers down Aya's naked back, linking his fingers in the empty belt loops. "Don't wanna lose your little panties?"

Aya, purposefully avoiding the look Schuldig was giving him, took the drink that Crawford handed him and tossed it back. He downed it in one shot, flicking out his Tongue to roll the icecubes around. "We're not playing this anymore - there's no way for us to win!" He wiped his mouth with his wrist as he spoke and turned towards Ken, whose head was in Aya's lap and whose hands seemed to be wandering around his jeans like whores on the curb. He gritted his teeth, "and I do NOT wear PANTIES!" 

"Too bad - now I quess we'll never know." Schuldig smirked and stuck out his tongue at Aya as Crawford sighed, leaning across the table to collect the cards.

Omi, who had been huddled with Nagi at the far end of the table, suddenly piped in. "Well...now what do we do?" Although he and Nagi had been excluded from the last game they were also, somehow, both now only half-dressed.

Nagi climbed onto Omi's back, giggling and posturing seductively. He leaned over, close to Omi's ear, and flicked his tongue out to tease the tiny gold loop. He purred, "How about...seven minutes in heaven?"

Weiss and Schwartz looked at each other for a long moment across the table. From what they could read in the drawn, perfect faces etched in shadow by the lamp, each man was game. "Fine," said Crawford, tucking the cards away and flicking them back onto the table with a hollow thud. "How do we choose who goes?"

"Easy!" Slurred Yoji, reaching down into the bag and taking out a small bundle of straws bound by a purple thread.

Schuldig laughed. "Always prepared, aren't we Yo-tan?"

Yoji lifted his eyes slowly to meet Schuldig's and winked, "That's the name of the game, baby - the name of the game. Now, there are seven straws, two long ones."

"I want the loooong one!"

"Shuddup, Omi. Now, whoever picks 'em - the long ones, I mean - have a date in the closet. And it's not debateable - whoever you get, you have to go with. Now close yer eyes," Yoji held his hand out, the straws poking up evenly, "and choose. I get the leftovers."

"...like always."

"Shuddup, Ken."

Each of the men covered their eyes and extended a hand, reaching into the jumble of straws and thinking of a name as they pulled one out. Let it be Omi. Let it be Aya. Let it be...Yoji could feel al the men pulling the straws slowly out of his palms in anticipation, and hoped for luck to rule in his favour. Which it usually didn't. When he felt only one left, pliant in the warmth of his grip, he opened his eyes. "Okay - who's getting lucky?"

Each man looked down at the thin piece of plastic held he held in his palm.

"I got one!" Nagi smiled triumphantly, holding it up.

"Mou! I didn't - that's not fair!! We have to re-draw!" Omi looked as though he were about to cry, watching Nagi wave the this straw about. He turned back to the one he held, the look in his eyes commanding it to grow another inch.

Ken, relieved that he was not the one holding the matching straw, looked around. "Well then, who has the other ...' His words trailed off as he looked across the table. Crawford was clenching his fist tightly around something, and looked, if possible, more murderous than usual.

"No. Absolutley not." Crawford tossed defiantly onto the table the other long straw, slightly crumpled. "We will do it again."

Schuldig reclined against the couch, looking as though he was enjoying himself thouroughly. "Shouldn't you have seen that coming?" He asked baitingly, swirling the crystal glass of scotch he held delicately between his fingers. The look that Crawford proceeded to give in answer told all those around the table that this was better left alone.

Yoji, one for sticking ruthlessly to the rules only when it pertained to cards, was about to protest but quickly though the better of it. Better not to traumatize Omi's boyfriend - not to mention risk getting pummeled by such a well-built and angry-looking American. After downing the neglected Corona by his side, Yoji gathered up the straws and commenced again. "Okay, boys - take two!" 

Again, each man reached into Yoji's fist to extract a straw.

"Eeeee! We each got one!!" Omi squealed in delight, grabbing Nagi by the wrist and dragging him off before the other boy even had a chance to open his eyes. "Don't start counting until we're actually in the closet, now. Hey..!?" Suddenly Omi, pulled by an unseen force, was suddenly lifted off his feet, and began careening through the air like an oversized puppet. "Nagiiii!!!"

Nagi stood up and brushed himself off, as the closet door magically swung open and Omi glided inside. He inclined his head towards the group in parting, and walked off towards the closet. Unaided, the door slammed shut behind him, and the light that seeped from the room blinked off.

While the other four remaining at the table stared in shock off towards the concealing door, Aya stared down into his palm. It was better off this way, he decided, tucking the straw into his back pocket. Omi was still a bit young, after all. Beside him Ken was practically bent in half, reaching under the table for something that seemed just beyond his reach. Despite himself, Aya could not help but stare for an instant; the tanned skin on Ken's back, muscled and taunt, looked so smooth in the lamplight. He found his eyes trailing down, dipping in every shadow, counting the vertebrae until they disappeared beneath the fitted curves of Ken's baby blue Hanes.

"Aya! I'm getting jealous..." Aya snapped his eyes back up, seeing Schuldig watching him from across the table. He didn't even bother to register that Schuldig, despite his own threats, was smoking another cigarette in his living room. "I didn't even need powers for that one," Schuldig grinned, tipping his ashes into an empty beer bottle, "because of that look on your face, kitten." He added, "I've missed it."

Aya decided it was better not to answer, and looked down at the table instead. "What are you doing under there, Ken?"

Suddenly Ken's head popped back up, smiling widely as he slammed the empty champagne bottle onto the center of the table.

"What's 'this?'" Asked Crawford, his tone business-like as he lowered his glasses to better inspect the object.

"This is our next game," Ken went on, turning the vessel on its side and flicking his wrist. "Spin the bottle. Wanna play?"

"That's for wusses!" Yoji reached into the black bag, quickly finding what he wanted. He tossed the object of the table. "This'll make it MUCH more interesting."

Five men leaned closer over the table, trying to see the two small objects that Yoji and so eagerly set before them. They were dice, six-sided and slightly worn from use. However, instead of numbers, each dice had written on them the names of different body parts, accompanied by small cartoonish drawings. Inhaing sharply, all eyes whipped back up to Yoji.

"I'm sure you all understand - you roll the dice, and you have to do an action that involves the two corresponding body parts. For instance," Yoji assumed the air of an expert as he picked up each die independantly and rolled them onto the the table. This really was his strong suit, after all. While the others all watched with rapt attention, Aya could not help wondering at how much smarter Yoji sounded when he was drunk. The dice turned up: one showed a picture of a hand, and the other of an ear. "If I was playing, I would have to ... tickle someone's ear, I guess."

They all, simulaneously, blinked.

"What the hell is sexy about that?" Ken demanded, reaching out and twiddling his fingers in Yoji's soft hair. "Coochie-coochie coo!"

"Well there are other combinations!" Yoji protested, defending the honour of one of his very favourite pastimes. "And besides," He added, leaning close to Ken, "anything can be sexy ... if you know what you're doing." He leaned forwards, one hand on either side of Ken forcing the younger man into a reclining position. The other men around the table all watched as Yoji leaned in even closer, his chest pressed to Ken's and his mouth hovering teasingly an inch above his ear. He exhaled, running a long and elegant finger along the rim of Ken's ear and down along his jaw, and every man at the table simultaneously shivered. 

"Ok, I'm sold." Pronounced Shuldig, putting his hand decicively on the bottle. Yoji re- assumed his sitting position, leaving Ken with his back to Aya's arm and a new, burning desire. 

Aya, irritated, nudged Ken, who sat up with a lost and longing look on his face which Crawford noted. "As soon as our friend Ken rejoins us, we can begin."

Ken looked at Crawford: the sight was like a stiff drink. He blinked, turning to Yoji as he spoke, "Damn. You ARE good."

"Hey - the ladies don't complain."

"Nor the men, apparently," said Crawford, taking the bottle that Schuldig passed him. "Now, let's play." He flicked his wrist, and the bottle spun on the table like a wild compass. They all watched with baited breath, wondering who it would land on first, while Crawford warmed the dice in his hands. 


	3. lucky dice

Wow - sorry I kept this going for so long, I really didn't mean to! Only the conclusion to go (I promise I,ll keep it short!) Oh bother ...Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! (really, cuz I'm planning a wicked little sequel!) The pairings are Nagi/Omi, and ... um ... I'm not sure! Kind of Schuldig/Yoji/Aya, Crawford/Ken, Everyone/everyone.^_^*

I only rated this R because there's nothing graphic and I don't really understand the ratings. Let me know if I should change it... Thanks again to all you who reviewed Chapters 1 and 2 - I hug you I kiss you!

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Time passed like a vague shadow, carrying the moon along it's lonely ark through the sky. The stars spiralled, and somewhere to the east dawn was breaking on another town. But here in an apartment, a tiny box in the concrete highway between heaven and earth, five men sat around a table watching a tube of glass spin its random path. They were all drunk; sweat trickled down the bodies muscled by discipline and necessity as they eagerly awaited for all motion to cease.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the bottle eased out of its frantic spin. And stopped. Crawford, whose hand was still poised over the glass, followed with his eyes the straight, invisible line that connected him another person in the room. It took him a moment to realize, to the sounds of ridiculous laughter, that the line which was strung like police tape at a crime scene was between himself....and the door to the closet.

"Impossibe!" Crawford protested, knocking the bottle away. At his side his german companion, accompanied by Ken, was doubled over in hysterics. "S -Someone is doing this on purpose - It's impossible that I could spin three times and always get the same result!"

They had been playing for over an hour, and with each spin of the bottle and roll of the die they had gotten more and more into the game. They all knew what lay in store when the game reached its end ... but anticipation makes the prize ever so sweeter, and they would patiently wait for one man's willpower to crack. So far, each man had spun twice, and ended up with a different partner each time.

Except for Crawford, of course. Each time he put his hand on the bottle and the dice, it ended up the same: the bottle pointing at the door to the damned closet, and the dice smiling with two sets of lips.

Yoji reached across the table, attempting to pat Crawford in a consoling sort of way but ending up slapping him roughly on the cheek. "S'gotta be a sign, Crawford - you ain't gonna have any fun 'til ya pucker up and head off into that closet yonder." Yoji spoke with a cigarette dangling from between his lips, complimented by a Texan drawl that could border on sexy or downright annoying. Crawford wasn't sure which it was at the moment, and pushed Yoji's hand away.

"He's right, 'darlin,'" Pushing Ken aside Sculding leaned onto Crawford, twirling a finger in the jet black locks baitingly as he spoke. "You have to do what the bottle says ... unless you'd rather do what I say." As he spoke, Schuldig slammed Crawford's brain with a series of images that made both men, already flushed from alcohol, blush.

Somewhere in the back of his alcohol-addled brain, Crawford made a mental note to thouroughly pound Schuldig the next morning. " I will NOT go to the damn closet - I will spin again."

Schuldig placed his hand over the bottle, lifting a sharply-arched brow. "Closet."

"No."

"'fraid the man's right - closet first." Yoji looked at Aya and Ken, smiling. "Am I right, gentlemen? Are those not the rules?"

Ken nodded fervently, chanting under his breath, "closet! Closet!" Aya, resting a naked elbow on the table, smiled, and looked at Crawford with amethyst eyes. "Afraid so."

Crawford surveyed his companions, looking as though the liquor in his system was the only reason he was not gutting them on the spot. He slammed his hands on the table, standing up. "FINE!"

With an air of supreme, murderous rage, Crawford stormed towards the closet with pounding footsteps. As the others looked on he yanked the door open and reached inside, so blinded by fury that he didn't even see who he was reaching for. He didn't see the shocked faces of the two boys, or the expression on the one he pulled naked form the closet and crushed against his mouth. He didn't want to know - but he felt the heat of a body relaxing in his arms, and the warmth of wet lips against his own.

The four men around the table looked on in shock. Even Schuldig, who prided himself on having seen almost everything the world had to offer, was stunned silent. My my my . . . Crawford could be full of surprises.

After a very long moment, Crawford, his eyes still closed, threw the body back in to the closet and shut the door. He stomped back over the the table and threw himself down in his seat, glaring at Schuldig.

"Crawford..." Schuldig thought, looking back at him.

"Not... one... word. Don't even say it. Let's just play the game." To the others around the table Crawford appeared to be sitting in silence, the same as before but slightly more angry and more...disturbed.

Schuldig smiled, understanding. "I wasn't going to say anything... except that you're fucking sexy when you're like that."

Crawford smiled coyly, turning to Aya and tossing him the dice.

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Inside the closet, in the inky blackness, Omi and Nagi also sat in a dumb silence. 

"What the hell was that?" Omi demanded, feeling a slight and irrational tinge of jealousy. Yeah, right. He began to try to find Nagi in the dark, having been so rudely interupted that he sorely needed to be put back in the mood. 

"I ... don't know." Nagi replied, running his tongue over his bruised lips. Was that...? What the hell? He felt Omi's hand brush blindly against him in the dark and grabbed it, pulling the other boy onto him. He ran his hands over the tight muscles, invisible in the dim light, that traced along Omi's back and knit with those in his strong buttocks and thighs. The familiar smell of their bodies mixed together. "But is doesn't matter." Nagi placed a finger against Omi's lips, kissing it. " Now shhhhhh ..."

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Aya arched his neck, fingers digging into the wood of the floor. Between slightly parted lips ragged breaths escaped as he watched, with dilated eyes beneath heavy lashes, Yoji go to work. He forgot the others around the table, watching them in the murky light; instead, he abandonned himself over to the warmth of the other man's mouth, the movement of his tongue, and the voyeuristic pleasure he felt in watching. To hell with it - it felt too damn good.

Yoji, looking up and catching his gaze, and bit into the index finger between his lips. "Now you know why I'm so famous for what I do." He said, wiping his mouth slowly with the back of his hand. "And THAT was just your FINGER."

Schuldig, a deep flush staining his cheeks, caught Yoji's glance. "Ohhh..that just begs the question, doesn't it?" 

Aya looked away, wiping off his hand and scanning the other faces around the table. Crawford had been watching them intently, a slight grimace pulling at the corner of his mouth. His eyes, in the shadows cast by the lamp, looked bottomless and black. He looked back at Aya, with a face that made the red head's body shiver. A look that said Crawford would not be able to take much more of this game. For that matter, Aya thought, neither could he.

"I have to go pee," pronounced Ken, killing the moment. He stood up, wavering slightly, and the motion seemed to rouse the deeply-pensive Schuldig seated beside him.

"But it's your turn." Schuldig said, looking up from an advantageous angle.

"I know, but I can't hold it!" Ken frowned, walking off down the hall. " But don't skip my turn - I'll be gone for two seconds!"

"I promise - you won't miss your turn." Schuldig cooed. Watching until Ken disappeared from sight and sending him silent professions of innocence and trust, Schuldig nonchalantly curled his fingers around the cool glass bottle. He turned back to the rest of the party, looking towards Yoji and Aya, and flicked his wrist. The dice were already warming in his palm.

Suddenly, as the bottle slowed, Nagi's head popped out from the closet. Before anyone around the table knew what had happened, they looked down to see the glass on the table cracked neatly in two: one half pointing at Aya, and the other at Yoji. Beside it, two white dice clattered against the wood. 

As the closet door slammed shut again Aya, realizing what had happened, stared for a long moment at the bottle, and at the two dice now lying side by side on the table. He laughed out loud, looking at Shuldig. "Wow - was that by luck of the draw?"

Schuldig smiled back, running a hand through his wild hair and closing his eyes. "What? There's no such thing as luck - only advantage." From the closet they could hear the sounds of the other boys' laughter banging against the walls.

"Too bad, though," Aya replied, casting an eye at the dice once more, "I don't think that THAT'S something you can do. At least, not with two people at once." Yoji, on his hands and knees, crawled over to where Schuldig slouched against the couch. Neatly, adeptly, he pulled the other man against himself so that he could feel the heat from Schuldig's back agains his naked chest. As spoke to Aya he began traiing his fingers lightly over Schuldig's thighs, and buried his mouth in his neck. "Don't worry, Aya," Yoji said, nipping Schuldig's sensitive skin with his teeth, "We're experts at this kind of thing." 

Aya nodded, crawling over to Schuldig. "Oh, that's right - I forgot you had so much field experience." Aya said, laughing at himself. He was so drunk, he barely knew where he was .. but he knew that, at times like these, he was blissfully happy. These were the moments that answered to no one. He straddled Shuldig's lap, running his fingers down the expensive cotton shirt and ripping off the buttons as Schuldig covered his mouth with savage kisses. The light in the room seemed so bright when reflected off the crisp linen and his own alabaster flesh, he thought, beginning to trail a line of kisses down Schuldig's taunt stomach. Schuldig, arching his neck, grabbed a fistful of crimson hair as Aya reached his belt and tugged at the Italian leather with white teeth.

Crawford, sitting across the table from the others, rested the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger before slamming the tabletop with both palms. "What? I'm here too, god damn it - What's the matter with me!?" He demanded, standing up.

Aya, Schuldig, and Yoji each paused im mid-action, and looked up at Crawford in surprise. In their eagernes, they had almost forgotten he was there. Ken, who had apparently stopped in the kitchen on his way back, walked innocently into the room. A ring of cookie crumbs circled his lips, and he was licking chocolate icing off one of his fingers. He looked at Crawford, smiling. "What's going on?"

Crawford stared back for a short moment with an intensity that made Ken feel completely exposed. "You!" He commanded, walking towards Ken, "Come with me!" He grabbed Ken by back of the head and kissed him; then, yanking the younger boy off his feet, pulled him towards the stairs leading to the bedroom. Ken, confused, did not resist. Hell, it was almost flattering. Like victor in a battle Ken waved mockingly at the three men seated on the living room floor, and eagerly followed the American up the stairs.

Yoji, Schuldig, and Aya sat still, listening to Crawford and Ken thump up towards the master bedroom. Where the silk sheets were. Where the bed was. Slowly, knowlingly, each of the three men looked at each other. And grinned. Without saying a word they scrambled to get up, grabbing at each other and racing for the stairs. Yoji, pausing for a breif instant, turned and ran back to the living room table. He grabbed the bag he had taken out earlier, shaking it; inside, he could hear the contents knocking softly together. "What a night." Yoji smiled, and raced off after the others.


	4. morning

Okay - last part, I swear!

******************************

"COULD YOU PLEASE KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE?!?"

Kyoko Tsunabe banged against the wall with the ball of her fist, trying to be heard over the din. Goddam appartments. She was entering her third year of university, and had finally saved up enough money from her part-time job to move out into a 2 1/2 with her boyfriend. Finally, she had thought, she would be able to study in the peace and quiet of her own home. 

Right. What a joke.

A few short weeks after she had moved in, she had begun to hear the noises. At first, she thought maybe she had moved in next door to a couple of homocidal maniacs the screaming was so loud. She really would have preferred that to the truth of what was she realized was going on over there. At the moment, it sounded as though about 20 moaning people were banging their fists, aluminum chairs, chains, brothers, and howling cats against the wall. And she had to go to work the next morning.

Next to her, in bed, her boyfriend lay with a pillow curled around his silver-capped head to drown out the noise. He had had a tortured past, and as she looked at him in the dim light she smiled. Who would have thought that he was really such a softie? Listening to his breathing, Kyoko knew that he wasn't asleep - with that racket, sleep was downright impossible - and poked him on one of his many scars.

"Hey," she said sweetly, "that noise is so gross. Couldn't you go over there and tell them to quit it, in the name of your girlfriend's delicate sensibilities?"

Her boyfriend curled further into a ball, tightening the pillow around his ears. "I would'n go over there if ya paid me."

Kyoko scootched closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "But don't you know them from some where?" She recalled an incident in which they had brushed past one of her neighbours on the street, and he had begun talking to her boyfriend in a very familiar way. He had even known his name. "Weren't they friends of yours once, or something?"

Kyoko's boyfriend rolled over, turning his back to her.

"Nope. I've never met those perverts before in m'life."

****************************************************************

Stretching out in the dim light of an early Saturday morning, tangled in a disarray of pillows and sheets, Schuldig stretched out with a contented sigh. Beside him Aya was still asleep, softly dozing with his face on Schuldig's chest and his hair cascading down in soft locks. The bed was not very large, and the four men were pressed closely together beneath the damp fabric. Yoji, already awake, leaned an arm against the open window pane smoking a cigarette. 

Schuldig looked over, seeing the blonde's slender, naked form etched in contour by the light. Yoji must be giving the street quite a show, he thought to himself. Also, I could really use a smoke. 

"Hey, Yo-tan."

Yoji nodded to Schuldig, leaning out the window and calling out to a woman who seemed to have become distracted from her early-morning jog. "Hey, why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer!" He leaned back in, sauntering proudly over and seating himself of the edge of the bed. He extended his hand .

Schuldig leaned over, not wanting to wake Aya but really needing some tabacco in his system. As he took a long haul, listening to the paper burning between his fingers, Ken lifted his head and looked at the two men with groggy eyes. His hair was almost wild, and he looked, other than the fact that he was being spooned by a hansome American, like a young boy just getting up for school.

Schuldig smiled at him, the cigarette between his lips. He winked. "See? I told you you wouldn't miss your turn."

Ken smiled broadly, and buried his face back in the comfort of the down pillows.

Craving sated, Schuldig passed the cigarette back to Yoji and took a deep breath. "Ahhh..." he sighed, mulling over memories of the night, "it really is TGIF."

Yoji squinted against the smoke, nodding assent. 

"Still..." Schuldig continued, reaching out and pulling Yoji onto the vacant half of his chest, "the week just has so many days. We really should do this more often."

Yoji smiled, crushing the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand. He ran a hand up Schuldig's chest, and leaned in to kiss his lips. 

"Oh, definitely."


End file.
